5.06.2007

Problem Is...

Upon our arrival in Dublin, Jill and I ask two friendly trash collectors to point us toward Rob's apartment, near Gonzaga College and down the street from McSorley's pub. "Problem is," the less leprechaunly one says in an accent that melts Jill's heart right through the stench of morning trash, "your friend lives in Ranelagh, and you're in Donnybrook". Thinking we're in the wrong part of town entirely, and not thrilled about the prospect of calling Rob from a glass case of emotion at 6:30 am, we look at each other in despair.

"The good news is," says the same bloke, taking a step to his left, "if you walk down this street about two hundred yards (conveniently converted to American football measurements!) and take a right, and go another twenty-to-forty yards, you'll see your friend's place."

He's wrong on more than one count, but what better welcome to the Emerald Isle than an early-morning brogue chauffering us from terror to relief and back to confusion in a matter of seconds?

If I had the time and the energy, I'd take you through every moment of our five-day trip, but with all the planning that lies ahead for this weekend's Schroecchione union, it may be best to cut to the web gems.

A quick debrief: In Ireland, Coke and Pepsi are called "Guinness" and "Murphy's". Tom Cruise and Meg Ryan are called "James Joyce" and "Oscar Wilde". The dollar is called "sixty-four cents".

We visited the Guinness Brewery (maybe the highlight of the whole trip) on Sunday, the Murphy's Brewery (now Heineken Ireland, and not open for tours) on Monday, and the Jameson distillery (maybe Jill's highlight) on Tuesday. I hiked the cliffs of Howth with Rob and Jill on Saturday and Dublin's south shore with Rob and Rodrigo on Tuesday. We took a bus to Cork on Monday for my introduction to the green part of the country, a disappointing visit to Murphy's, and an entertaining couple of pints with Claire.

Tuesday night's literary pub crawl brought our total "pubs visited" count to 17. We did not count pints consumed, tips inadvertently left for said pints, Y*****s losses celebrated in the wee hours, or Irishwomen ogled, shattering my concept of Irish girls as homely, pale-skinned redheads. I suppose it would be most appropriate (by which I mean, incredibly lame) to end this post with a hearty

Slainte!

1 Comments:

At 2:16 PM, Blogger Kate said...

YAY for Ireland. And you will be happy to know that I am posting again - twice this week even!

 

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